


Gardens of Love

by YodelingProspector



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Drabble Collection, Gardener!Bucky, Gardens & Gardening, I didn't actually count the words for each drabble, M/M, Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes | Shrinkyclinks, POV Alternating, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Sort Of, War Veteran Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-20 08:47:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16133783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YodelingProspector/pseuds/YodelingProspector
Summary: Steve visits the new Maria Stark Memorial Garden to sketch some flowers for a client, but he ends up focusing more on the hot groundskeeper.





	Gardens of Love

**Author's Note:**

> I've been reading tons of Stucky fanfics for years, but never actually wrote one. 
> 
> This was inspired by a volunteer activity I did this morning: pulling weeds. Why is that the thing that decided to kick me into writing a Steve/Bucky fic? I have no idea...
> 
> This was also going to be a one-shot, but I got impatient and decided to post part of it.

The Maria Stark Garden is a sprawling patch of green in the middle of Brooklyn, looking like a garden out of a fairy tale. It's the perfect place for Steve to sit and draw, and by some miracle, the pollen hasn't triggered his asthma yet, though he has his inhaler just in case.

 

He has commissions to draw, the things that will actually earn him money to do important life things like paying bills and buying food. A current client wants garden sketches, so Steve comes here to sketch the shrubs and flowers, his hand moving deftly over the paper. It's about the only time his body works exactly as he'd like.

 

As he works, he sees one of the groundskeepers, a man dressed in a soft red V-neck, long-sleeved despite the heat. His long brown hair hangs down, obscuring his face as he deftly pulls weeds with work-glove-clad hands. Steve wonders why the man doesn't tie his hair back in a bun or ponytail. Maybe he forgot a hair-tie?

 

Steve can't help but stare at this man, wanting to draw a thousand portraits of him. He moves in a way that makes Steve think he must have been in the military, precise, sure, and efficient.

 

Suddenly, the man looks up at him, face finally visible under the hair. Blue-gray eyes meet Steve's, and Steve's hands itch to draw a thousand more pictures of this man's eyes alone. He's never seen anything like them.

 

Steve flushes, because he realizes he's been caught staring, and he looks back down at his work.

 

He thinks he'll start coming here to draw, even when he's not being paid to draw gardens.

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

Bucky pushes a wheelbarrow full of fertilizer across the grounds, spotting a familiar figure out of the corner of his eye.

 

Every day this week, the tiny blonde guy's come here to sit and sketch on that pad of his. The guy truly is tiny, five-foot-four at the most and maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet. He's got blue eyes like the sky, and has the most adorable little smile on his face when he's drawing, looking totally at peace.

 

He's one of the most gorgeous men Bucky's ever seen.

 

The old Bucky would have sauntered over, full of charm and definitely able to flirt with this man. But Bucky's not that old Bucky anymore. Now, he's a one-armed veteran who's adjusting somewhat poorly to society. He's got this job, sure, but Stark basically handed it to him as the billionaire worked on Bucky's state-of-the-art prosthetic left arm.

 

So he's got a job, which is better than he thought he'd do, to be honest. The job's not bad, really. The mundane work helps calm his brain, and the garden is fairly peaceful. Sam had seemed surprised that Stark had thought of the idea, but had been wholly supportive.

 

Bucky's been wearing long sleeves and work gloves, to hide the arm from the public. Learning to control the pressure the thing exerts is a pain in the ass. He's lost count of the number of times he's crushed the handle of a watering can, or completely destroyed plants he's supposed to be caring for. Not to mention the times he's broken stuff in his apartment.

 

At least when he's pulling weeds, it doesn't matter if they're crushed in his metal fist.

 

So, Bucky may be a veteran who still wakes up screaming from nightmares, who can't stand crowds or loud noises to the point that even going to the goddamn store is sometimes too much. If someone touches him unexpectedly, he'll have them in a chokehold before they know what hit them.

 

But at least he has a job, even if he didn't do anything to earn it.

 

He's seen the blonde guy watching him. Probably wondering what a scraggly guy like him is doing here, marring the beautiful garden with his presence.

 

Bucky turns away from the tiny guy and goes back to work.

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

Steve's finished the garden art gig, Mrs. Hernandez was very pleased with the results. He's working on some comic art now, which he loves. He's drawing the curve of a boot, kicking a bad guy in the face, which is something Steve's never successfully accomplished in his back-alley fights.

 

Suddenly, a shadow falls over his page. It's the groundskeeper, gazing down at Steve's drawing.

 

“It's good.”

 

They're the first words he's heard from the guy, and the man's voice seems rough with disuse.

 

Steve flushes at the praise. He doesn't generally like being praised, and then to have this unfairly hot guy tell him his art is good? Steve turns scarlet.

 

He glances back to say thanks, but the man's already about a dozen yards away, back to tending the garden.

 

Steve flips the page to start drawing a new panel. He sketches and sketches, and then with a start, he realizes he's been drawing piercing eyes, a strong jaw, chin-length hair. He stares at the picture of the gardener, the guy he's been pining after even though Steve doesn't even know his name yet. He knows nothing about this guy. But boy does he want to.

 

Steve shakes his head and slams his sketchbook shut, shoving it into his bag, walking briskly out of the garden.

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

Steve tells himself he's volunteering at the Maria Stark Garden because he cares about the environment. And he really does. Care about the environment, that is.

 

But he also wants to get to know this gardener more, and sitting on a bench creepily sketching him is not the way to go about it.

 

He signs up to volunteer and is put to work weeding the side of the path. They've got these nifty pads you can kneel on, so you don't have pebbles from the walkway digging into your knees while you work.

 

Steve's somewhat disappointed that Hot Gardener isn't weeding at the same time he is, but he supposes they don't need two people to do the job.

 

He glances up once to see the hot guy looking at him. Had he noticed the time Steve was drawing him, or all the times Steve's been staring at him?

 

Steve stares back at the man for a moment, but then refocuses on the weeds.

 

When he's done, his hands are covered in dirt, because he forgot to ask for gloves. Oh well, he's used to getting his hands smeared with charcoal and ink.

 

He looks at his work, satisfied with his performance, and hoping he'll get to talk to the Hot Groundskeeper sometime.

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

So now the blonde guy is here doing more than drawing, he's actually helping tend to the garden. Bucky's not sure if the guy was hired, or just volunteering, but sometimes he can't help but glance at the guy's ass when he's crouched down, tending to bushes. Really, every single thing about this guy seems to draw Bucky's eyes with a magnet.

 

He watches as the guy struggles to lift a bag of mulch, his skinny arms straining.

 

Eva, the woman in charge of the garden, says that maybe she shouldn't have asked him to do that, that maybe it's too heavy.

 

Brock Rumlow, an asshole who is only volunteering out of court-mandated community service hours, laughs and grabs the bag. “Let me get that, little guy.”

 

The man scowls furiously at Brock, not budging and still gripping the bag himself.

 

Bucky stalks over to Rumlow with his own scowl, one that usually sends people scurrying the other way. He's got a resting murder face now, but sometimes it comes in handy.

 

Brock isn't intimidated, when Bucky tells him to back off, but he lets go of the bag, smirking as this causes the tiny guy to almost fall once he's suddenly bearing all the weight again.

 

The guy looks ready to punch Brock in the stomach even though Brock could probably beat him senseless.

 

As Brock walks away, still smirking, Bucky hears the man's voice. It's deeper than Bucky expected, honestly.

 

“Don't offer to help me. I can do this.” The tiny guy stares up at Bucky. He has this stubborn, determined look in those gorgeous blue eyes.

 

“Wasn't going to.” Bucky tells him.

 

The tiny guy's face and stance become less confrontational at those words. “I guess I've never introduced myself. Steve Rogers.” he says, holding out his hand, since the bag's already on the ground again.

 

“James Barnes.” Bucky replies, then amends. “Bucky.”

 

“Bucky?” Steve quirks a brow, though not in a mocking way.

 

Bucky just nods, and Steve goes back to trying to lift the bag.

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

Steve's heart is soaring as he grits his teeth and heaves up the mulch. He had a conversation with the Hot Gardener. No, Bucky. His name is Bucky, which is totally adorable, just like the man himself.

 

Sure, their conversation was way too short and started with Steve snapping at the guy, but he just hates it when people assume he can't do something. Plus, the other man who called him “little guy” was a total ass.

 

Steve's still going to tell that jerk off sometime, give him a speech about ableism that he probably won't listen to, because guys like him don't listen. But then Bucky had come over, and Steve doesn't need anyone standing up for him, but he's glad to talk to the guy and finally introduce himself.

 

Maybe it's his pounding heart, or the exertion or the pollen's just finally getting to him, but Steve realizes he's struggling to breathe, a feeling he knows all too well.

 

He falls to the ground and fumbles in his pocket for his inhaler, bringing it to his mouth and plunging the canister.

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

Bucky watches, concerned, as Steve seems to struggle to breathe, before reaching into his pocket with shaky hands. Bucky's just wondering whether he should try to perform CPR or something, when Steve brings out an inhaler.

 

He seems to have it under control, though Bucky wonders if he would have if he let the asthma attack go on much longer.

 

Steve looks back at him, challenging look back on. “Yeah, I have asthma.” He says, like Bucky's _staring at_ him, like people would stare at Bucky's arm if he let them see it. Bucky's not staring like that, he's just concerned.

 

Still, he turns away, not wanting to make Steve uncomfortable, and watches Steve out of the corner of his eye.

 

Steve goes back to pushing the wheelbarrow, huffing and puffing.

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

They've started working side-by-side, now. Steve relishes in the time with Bucky, though it's clear Bucky's not much of a conversationalist.

 

Bucky will occasionally say something like “you don't want to pull those up.” or something else related to their work. Steve tries to start conversations, and it's not like Bucky ignores him and doesn't answer, but every topic Steve brings up dies with a short answer from Bucky.

 

Steve pulls off his gloves and wipes his sweaty bangs away from his eyes. He's noticed Bucky only ever pulls off his right glove, and never removes the left. And it's ridiculously hot out here, but the guy's still wearing long sleeves.

 

One time, Bucky actually asks about Steve's drawings. Steve smiles and bursts into a description of his art. He's not boasting, he's just really passionate about what he does, and he describes how he'd drawn the flowers they're tending to now.

 

Bucky just listens, like he actually cares about what Steve has to say, like he's not tired of hearing Steve talk about which type of pencil is best for drawing flower petals.

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

The more Bucky works with Steve, the more he wishes he could ask him on a date. He loves the way Steve's eyes light up when he's talking about art, even though most of it flies right over Bucky's head. He doesn't mind listening, though, and he clings to every word Steve says.

 

He's noticed Steve glancing curiously when he doesn't remove his left glove, but Steve's never said anything about it, never asked any questions. Bucky's grateful for that.

 

And then, one night, he's going home and hears a scuffle going on in an alley, someone getting punched in the gut. And then, Bucky hears Steve say “I could do this all day.”

 

He's ducking into the alley, where three or four heavily muscled guys are crowding around him. Steve's got his tiny fists up, one eye already sporting a shiner, and bruises across his face.

 

One of the men lashes out, catching Steve in the jaw and sending him sprawling to the ground.

 

Bucky is on the man in an instant. He hasn't lost his edge, and the prosthesis certainly helps, and the guys realize all too quickly how much damage a metal arm can do.

 

Bucky stares at their fallen bodies- he hadn't killed them, only knocked them out- and then looks at Steve.

 

“I had them on the ropes.” Steve says, though he looks surprised to see Bucky there. His eyes flick to Bucky's left hand, and that's when Bucky remembers he's not wearing his glove, so the gleaming metal is obvious.

 

He expects Steve to stare at the hand, but as quick as Steve's looked at it, he's looking back at Bucky, and his expression hasn't changed at all. He's not looking at Bucky with pity, or disgust, or anything other than an odd mixture of annoyance and relief at Bucky knocking the guys out.

 

Bucky just huffs. He grabs Steve's wrist with his flesh hand, much more gentle than he'd been a minute ago, and guides him out of the alley before someone finds them surrounded by four unconscious bodies.

 

Bucky's not panicking, not even close. It's the everyday stuff that he struggles with. Fighting he can do with no problem, unless something in particular happens to trigger a flashback. Which this hadn't.

 

Still, he's seething. What the hell does this punk think he was doing, taking on four guys who were a good foot taller than him and at least a hundred pounds heavier?

 

“They were picking on a these two guys holding hands, using homophobic slurs.” Steve says, like somehow getting into a fistfight would solve that. Still, it's nice to know Steve's not a homophobe, although that doesn't necessarily mean he's gay or bi. Even if he was, there's no way he'd be into a guy like Bucky.

 

“Where do you live?” Bucky asks, before realizing how creepy that sounds. But he just wants to make sure Steve gets home before he gets into another scuffle.

 

Steve gives him a look and says “I've got it from here.”

 

Bucky levels his own look at Steve, who adds. “Really. I live a block away. Even I don't get into fights _that_ much.”

 

Wait, so this is a common occurrence? Steve commonly gets beat up standing up for others? Honestly, Bucky isn't surprised, but it's still unbelievably stupid, yet noble in an odd way.

 

Bucky has the nagging feeling he's going to have to watch out for this punk, or else Steve's going to get himself killed. Still, Steve's made it this far in life without Bucky.

 

Bucky wants to be a part of Steve's life. More than just a person he works with, occasionally.

 

First, he was just attracted to Steve, then blown away by his artwork, because Bucky can't draw worth beans. As they've worked more and more, Bucky's grown to respect Steve as a person, and his respect only grows after tonight.

 

If only Bucky could get himself together enough to ask Steve on a date.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Um, hopefully I'll finish this, but I don't exactly have a great track record going right now for finishing stories.


End file.
